Sonnets
by Joy Beth
Summary: Angela is out of college and ready to start a ranch on her own. She is clever, logical, and a very happy person. What happens when she meets a very interesting young man, but he never smiles? Will this Shakespeare loving lady show him how to be happy?


Hello, everyone! Gill is my favorite ToT character, so here I am, publishing a lovely Gill story for all others like me who like Gill.

Frankly, I never understood why people put disclaimers on their stories for a fan fiction website. If it's fan fiction, shouldn't it be obvious that no one on this site owns the companies that made these things we are fans of? Either way, it is expected, so. . . DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harvest Moon.

Whew, glad that's over.

Anyway, I hope you like it! Feel free to review, I like reading them. Even if you don't like it, leave some _constructive_ criticism. Or if you just want to say what your favorite part was, that's fine. I just like reviews! :)

Enjoy!

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><p>"<em>Shall I compare thee to a Summer's day?<br>__Thou art more lovely and more temperate.  
><em>_Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,  
><em>_And Summer's lease hath all too short a date._

"_Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,  
><em>_And often is his gold completion dimmed,  
><em>_And every fair from fair sometime declines-"_

"So, what are you reading there, missy?" Angela peered above her reading glasses at her grey-haired intruder. Harold Pascal was the captain of the ship, and as kind as the old man was, Angela still hated being interrupted, especially since _Sonnet 18_ was her favorite. Being impolite, however, was against her nature.

"Shakespeare." Angela took off the glasses and closed the book. "_Sonnet 18_." Pascal just smiled and nodded. Angela sighed, "_Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day?_"

"Oh, yes. That one." Pascal's eyes lit up again. "We're almost to Waffle Island, Miss Carter. We'll be there within the hour."

"That's good." She said. "The rocking of this boat has been getting to me."

"I can tell." Pascal laughed. "If you don't mind my asking, who is it that you're visiting?"

"Well, actually I'm moving in."

"Oh, really? Excuse my mistake then, Miss Carter."

"It's fine, Captain Pascal." She said with a smile.

"What made you think to come to Waffle Island?"

"I found a brochure for 'The Exciting Ranch Plan'." She made air quotations with the title. "I just graduated from college, and I majored in Agribusiness." She had worked as a farm hand to pay her way through school, but now that she was out, she wanted to start a ranch on her own. "I figured this was as good a place to start as any."

"Well, good for you, going out on your own. But where does Shakespeare play into your story?"

"It's a hobby." Angela noted that he was just as pleased with her short explanations as the hundreds of people to whom she had given the exact same answers back home. No one cares for the whole story, as long as you tell just enough details for them to think they already have it. Not that this bothered her in the least. She enjoyed making random mental notes on the subject of psychology every now and again. It's something that comes with liking theatre, or more specifically, Shakespeare.

"Look, Miss Carter! There's Waffle Island on the horizon now," Pascal exclaimed. Angela stood and turned toward the bow, feeling the motion of the waves even more since she was moving. There was the island, just as Pascal said.

Just then, there was a loud clap of thunder and the clouds that had been threatening them all day burst forth with rain. "We should get inside," said Pascal. Angela merely nodded. With more rain came bigger waves, and with bigger waves the boat rocked even more. She followed him inside and the waves got even larger. Angela couldn't take it any more, and she felt herself collapse as everything went dark. "Miss Carter? Angela!"

~Later~

Angela awoke from her dream to find herself in what looked like a hotel room. Her luggage was stacked neatly at the foot of her bed with her book and reading glasses on top. She went ahead and took a shower before she left the room, not wanting to smell of fishing boat any longer than she had to. Fifteen minutes later, she looked in the mirror and decided she was presentable.

Despite living a farmer's life, and therefore spending a considerable amount of time in the sun, Angela was very fair skinned. She was slightly taller than most women, and she had quite the figure. She had green eyes, full lips, and brown, curly hair that went just past her shoulders. She was wearing a green polo shirt, denim shorts, and just a little makeup.

Angela turned away from the mirror and headed out the door, remembering to take the room key that had been blatantly marked "Room Key 7" from the bedside table before exiting. She proceeded to find her way down to the first floor, where she was immediately greeted by two women. One was old and short, and the other middle aged and tall.

"Are you sure you are well enough to be walking around?" The older woman asked.

"Yes, I'm alright now, thank you," Angela said with a smile. "But could you please tell me where I am and how I got here?" The women explained to her that she was in the Sundae Inn, and she had been brought there by Captain Pascal after the boat arrived. The resident doctor had seen her while she was unconscious and said that her passing out was a result of extreme motion sickness. He had left her a bottle of Dramamine in case she ever decided to board a boat again. She also learned that the women's names were Yolanda Lowe and Colleen Rodgers, but when attempting to call the ladies by their last names, they insisted otherwise.

"The mayor called and said he was coming over to meet you," said Colleen. "It's a nice day, and fresh air will do you some good. Why don't you wait outside?"

There was not much waiting to be done. When Angela stepped outside, the short, fat, grey-haired mayor was turning the corner onto the inn's street. "Well, hello! You must be Angela. I'm the Mayor of this town. The name's Alexander Hamilton, but I'm not the founding father." He said with a laugh. "You can call me Hamilton. How are you feeling? I heard about your motion sickness."

"I'm fine now, thank you."

"Good! Good. Welcome to Waffle Island! We're all quite excited to be getting a new resident. This is a small town, so news travels fast. You know, we only started the Exciting Ranch Plan recently, so you are the first to do it. You must be. . ." Hamilton went on and on. . . and on. Angela never got more than seven words out at a time. Still, he was a nice man. Very Enthusiastic. He wound up giving her sort of a mini tour of town. "Now, if you go up these stairs here you'll find the town square and Town Hall, which also has the library. I told my son, Gill, to meet you in the square. He works at Town Hall. We received the papers you sent, but there are just one or two more for you to fill out, and he's got them. He's your age. Anyway, I have some business to attend to, so I will meet you at the Sundae Inn this evening and we can go over the last few details of your residency, like your address and whatnot."

"Alright. Thank you, Mr. Hamilton."

"Please, just Hamilton. I'll see you later, Angela!"

"Goodbye!" And with that Hamilton scurried cheerily off to wherever it was he was going.

Angela made her way up the staircase to the town square, and there, smack in the middle of the square, was the mayor's son. The first thing she noticed was how handsome his face was, despite the bored expression. He was thin, which made his features more prominent. His eyes were a brilliant blue, and his hair a gorgeous pale blonde. He also looked just as pale as Angela, but like the type that was Vitamin D deficient, as opposed to Angela's skin that was genetically un-tannable.

The second thing she noticed was his argyle sweater vest and plaid short combination. You shouldn't mix patterns like that.

"You must be Angela." His voice was smooth, though bored. "I'm Gill, the mayor's one and only son."

Angela's mind immediately jumped to John 3:16. Instead of pointing it out, she said "Yes, I'm Angela Carter. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Hamilton," and offered her hand.

"Miss Carter." He shook her hand. After he let go there was a slight awkward pause. Gill was the first to find something to say. "So, you found the brochure?" She nodded with an 'Mm-hmm'. "I didn't think that thing would fool anybody."

"I'm no fool. I researched the island. I know very well it's dying."

"If we're dying, as you say, then why move here?"

"I wasn't finished, Mr. Hamilton. I also know about ten or twelve years ago this island was quite prosperous. I'm buying while it's dirt cheap, and I'm confidant that my abilities as a rancher will make buying this land more than worthwhile." She smiled the whole time, a little proud of her idea. "Make sense, Mr. Hamilton?"

Gill's eyes looked less bored and more intrigued. "You may call me Gill." It was as if something caught him off guard. Surely it wasn't merely her idea of investing while their stock numbers were low? Angela wondered if the look was from thwarting his expectations of her being a fool.

"Gill." She smiled wider. "You may call me Angela." He still wasn't smiling, but at least his eyes weren't bored anymore.

There was a slight pause before he turned abruptly, the bored look settling once again. "I have some paperwork for you inside. . ." He hesitated. "Angela." He headed towards the Town Hall, expecting her to follow. She did, still smiling.

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><p>Mua-ha-ha-ha! I love making fun of little things I didn't like in the game. Like Gill's outfit. Eww. And the part where he says he's the mayor's "one and only son". That just sounds weird. lol.<p>

Well, I hope you liked it! I enjoyed writing it, and more will come soon! But for now, I thought I'd put a fun fact pertaining to something in the chapter at the end of each. Just for fun!

Fun Fact: There is a controversy as to whether William Shakespeare really was the author of all his plays and poems. I personally believe he did indeed write them because there are documents proving that he acted in his own plays at the Globe Theatre, and he also owned a percent of the Globe.


End file.
